#and the two hottest women

[nemaliwrites]

so i'm going through this prompt list and assigning each to a fandom/ship i'd like to write, and...lol realized every single one of my m/f ships all have the same dynamic

it's all 'hottest woman on the planet/weirdest guy on the planet'

[flodaya]

they saw me from across the room and liked my vibe

[whoblewboobear]

Crying, screaMING, THROWING UP 💖💖💖

[scorndotexe]

i do actually quite like that pale elf but fuck that i'm not romancing him again when literally the most beautiful woman in bg3 is right there

[saxigenouscorviform]

[gideonisms]

Ruka is the babs of utena. Not in any kind of narrative function way, just like, any time he shows up you're like THIS guy again really?

[dukeofankh]

If your vision for the deradicalization of right-wing men begins and ends with "other men telling them that that's gross and to stop it" then I'm sorry, you do not understand how masculinity works.

"Men who hold patriarchal status" and "men who are feminists" are two groups who overlap less than you want them to. I'm sorry. That's not solely because men are so happy with patriarchal status that they don't want to risk it by policing misogyny/queerphobia/racism, It's because being misogynistic, queerphobic, and racist, end expressing other forms of toxic masculinity(and often abusively so) are part of how people establish and maintain patriarchal status. The men who have the ability to stop this via nothing but peer pressure are the very people who are doing it. That's by design. And engaging in feminist intervention is, in and of itself, usually the abrupt end of that status and its associated power to persuade misogynistic men.

Like, I have worked in blue collar jobs as a notably queer person. It was pretty much a constant deluge of verbal abuse. In my experience, most blue collar work environments are exploitative, abusive, and bigoted, and very gleefully so. On the occasions I have spoken up about someone saying something that was super fucking out of line (asking me which of the girls walking by was hottest. We were installing a portable classroom at a middle school), believe it or not, they completely failed to be shamed! Because nobody else on the crew gave a fuck. *I* was the weird one. They ghosted me. A full blown company ghosted me. I suddenly didn't have a job anymore because they just straightforwardly stopped telling me where the next job site was.

Like, this doesn't mean that it's your job to do it, but this vision you have of these big groups of men where everyone is on the fence and there is precisely one shit stirrer who can be shut down by a brave feminist man who can single handedly set the example for all these other guys...you are high. You are describing an "everybody clapped" level absurd scenario. Most of these truly virulent misogynistic guys either have zero friends, because, you know, our society is atomized to fuck, or they are in a group where the feminist guy is actually the weirdo who can be shut down and ostracized much, much easier than the misogynists, because there is no such thing as a man misogynists respect who stands up for women.

You might be saying "well, we're talking about longstanding personal relationships, actually. Like, they need to have to want to spend time with you and then, as a side effect, you can mind control them out of being a threat to us."

Problem with that being:

1: Many feminist men also have no friends, see the atomized society above.

2: Feminist men already stopped hanging out with men who make rape jokes because why the fuck would we want to spend time with them.

3: That isn't just because we respect women so hard. We are in many cases talking about men who are also deeply queerphobic, heirarchical, violent and abusive to other men. What initially drew me to feminism and women was a lack of heirarchical squabbling and constant bullying, and the ability to be openly queer. A lot of men who came to feminism did so because they knew that the patriarchy was not a place they would find success or acceptance. These are not the men who are gonna be able to change right wing minds.

4. Men do not view themselves as a monolith. There is no universal brotherhood of men. The actual meaning of the term "Fragile masculinity" is that men are constantly expected to prove that they are deserving of the status of being a member of their own gender. There are large swathes of men--including most of the men who you'd look to as examples of good, feminist men who you want to undertake this project--who are considered failed men, sissies, f****ts, soyboys, ect. They are. Not. Going. To. Convince. These. Men. Of. Jack. Shit. Much less successfully *shame* them. Jesus.

I know all of this sucks. I know it would be cool to be able to just point at a group and have them be responsible for the work. But nah. It's gonna have to be a societal project, one that will probably outlast all of us. Sorry. The thing you want these men to do is, absolutely, the morally correct thing to do. But presuming that it would be effective is, and once again I am so sorry about this, just ignorance of how these social groups function.

[bagsuppliers]

Fashionable Loungewear Option: Sublimated Jersey

Recently, sublimated jerseys have become a must-have for stylish women worldwide, gaining widespread attention and popularity.

[rafecameronsslut4ever]

CASUAL pt.2— lando norris (angst)

pairing; fem!reader x lando norris summary: it took lando too long to realise it wasn't just 'casual'. warnings: a LOT of angst, toxic relationship, sexual implication, not proofread a/n: casual part 2 was not really a part of the plan but the audience had demands 🦧also i think this was too long lmao. AND IM SO SORRY FOR THE LONG DELAY OMG

part 1 - casual

miami grand prix: the biggest pr nightmare for every driver—especially lando norris.

the media had been all over him that weekend, going to the lengths of literally calling him 'the hottest catch on the single market'. hollywood stars and instagram models were so desperate to marry him and have his kids that they didn't catch on the fact that he was a 23-year-old racing driver who couldn't give a fuck about them.

because he was stuck on you.

for weeks, he'd waited—hoping you’d reach out, or at the very least, watch his instagram stories. he posted shirtless photos, sun-kissed photos—hell, he even threw out a thirst trap just for you. But you didn’t take the bait. you didn't take the fucking bait.

you hadn't texted him or spoken to him since the moment you walked out of that hotel room weeks ago, so he didn't try to reach out either. "would've been a blow to my ego," he'd told sainz.

but now, he didn't give a shit about his ego. he was tired of waiting.

his eyes darted across the packed club, friends and guests scattered all around. he couldn't wait to get out of there.

he hadn't been drinking. didn't really feel like it. truth be told, he hadn’t been feeling much of anything at all.

pool parties, clubs, yachts, champagne and girls.

he was tired of the glitz and glam of his life, and you were the only escape from it.

but you were gone.

his mind wandered to that morning, when you had kissed him and the two of you had ordered room service. when he had held you for the last time.

he hated how the only thing on his mind was you. how it was the only thing on his mind all through the celebrations, as hookers danced around him and people tried to pour drinks into his mouth.

for fuck's sake, he had won a grand prix for the first time in his life, and yet he was unhappy.

how did he get here?

he looked up, eyes falling on a group of men in the VIP section, the lights illuminating their faces.

everyone could tell something was off with lando. he didn't want to do any of this.

all he wanted was you. you, you, you.

the girl who had left without an explanation.

why had you left, anyway? no calls, no texts. your friends avoided him, and you avoided his friends. it was like the two of you were nothing.

lando norris was many things, but he was not a fool. he could recognise when something was wrong, or when a situation had escalated beyond his control.

he knew that there was a reason why you left, but the reason never clicked in that thick brain of his. what had he done wrong? where had he gone wrong?

"i'm not feeling too well, mate." he muttered, handing the beer bottle back to the guy standing next to him.

okay, maybe not admitting his feelings for you had fucked things up. but, what could you expect? he didn't have the time to give you what you deserved.

not right now, at least.

"what are you waiting for, then?" the other man asked, shoving his hands into his pockets.

"what?"

"just call her, bro. i know it's about a girl because there's no way any sane man would say no to expensive beers and a million hot hookers."

did lando even know this man? probably not.

"i can't call her. she doesn't want to talk to me. trust me, i've tried."

"have you?"

he didn't know how to deal with rejection. not like this, not with you. you weren't supposed to leave.

"judging by your sulkiness, i doubt you're going to find a girl like her again. and you'll never have her if you're here."

lando didn't have a heart of stone, as much as his social media persona might suggest. he didn't care for any of this. the women, the money, the fame.

he wanted to hold you again. kiss you, tell you he loves you. he wanted to hold your hand. he wanted to be near you, and only you.

so, when his feet hit the floor and he found himself walking towards the exit, he wasn't surprised.

yeah, it was foolish of him to leave a party full of women who were celebrating him (literally) for a girl who had ghosted him, but the need was stronger than his pride.

out of the yacht, he was dialling the only number he'd ever memorised. the phone rang, and then it rang again.

would she be wearing his clothes, or would she have gotten rid of everything related to him?

maybe she'd found another man, finally realising that lando was a bad investment.

as the phone rang, you were hidden in your apartment with blankets wrapped around you and a youtube video playing in the background.

it had been months since you'd heard the word 'casual' leave his mouth. months since you had fled london and monaco to move to miami.

at first, his words had echoed in your mind constantly, and you'd cried yourself to sleep a few times more than you'd like to admit.

but just like every heartbroken poet in history, the hurt faded and the pain slowly morphed into hatred. and anger.

you wanted to slam your head against a wall. scratch that, you wanted to slam his head against a wall.

it was so stupid, and you hated yourself for believing he'd been genuine.

it was just sex. that's all it ever was. it truly was just casual.

the phone was still ringing. your finger hesitated over the answer button. you weren't going to answer it.

it wasn't worth it. you didn't want to hear his voice. didn't want him to have the satisfaction of knowing that his words had hurt you. you didn't want to know if he was sleeping around, if his girlfriends were prettier than you.

so the line went dead.

lando stood by the harbour, watching as yachts and ships sailed past him. the air was humid and his t-shirt clung to his body, the heat almost unbearable. the sound of waves, the distant laughter and music, and the sound of his ragged breaths.

he ran his fingers through his hair, looking around. where was his car?

he had to find his way back to his hotel. he was a mess, and his clothes were sticking to his skin. he needed to fix his appearance, buy a bouquet a flowers.

he checked the time on his watch, and cursed as he saw the numbers. it was almost 3 am. he wouldn't find flowers anywhere at 3 am.

"fuck it." he said, running over to his car. the drive was quiet, save for the low hum of music and his occasional swearing when someone drove a little bit slower than he'd like.

lando norris had the world on his fingertips. he could have any girl he wanted. anyone, really. but he only wanted you. he was a hopeless romantic, and you were his muse.

when he pulled up outside the apartment, his nerves were going haywire. he ran a hand through his hair and took a deep breath before getting out of the car.

he knocked twice on the door and when it opened, his eyes lit up.

you stared back at him, sleepiness in your eyes and confusion etched on your face.

and god, did you look gorgeous.

he loved you, he realised. he had to cross his hands behind his back to stop them from reaching out and holding you close.

"lando?" you breathed out.

he had grown a slight stubble since you last saw him. his hair were still the same, except a little bit longer. his blue eyes were wide as he looked at you.

"hey," his voice was shaky.

"what the fuck are you doing here?"

he wanted to say so many things. ask you why you left, where it went wrong, why you moved to miami. he wanted to declare his love for you, press his lips to yours, hold you by the waist. he wanted to hear you say that you loved him too.

he was so in love with you, and you had no idea.

"lando? why are you here?" you asked again.

he was at a loss of words. what could he say? he couldn't exactly just stand there and say nothing.

"because," his voice cracked, "i miss you."

your throat went dry. he could not just say that.

it had been weeks. weeks of him not contacting you, weeks of you not speaking to him. the phone calls had stopped, the text messages had stopped, the late night chats had stopped. everything was just gone.

and now, he missed you?

tears welled up in your eyes, a lump forming in your throat. you shook your head, pushing back the tears, "go away."

"what? no, wait. wait. don't do this." he pleaded, his voice fragile and desperate, like a child trying to avoid bedtime.

"lando-"

he interrupted you, voice louder than before. "can we please talk about this?"

"what is there to talk about?" you were raising your voice. you hated him. how could he act like this after all that happened?

"everything. just—please, can i come in?" he sounded so pathetic. he felt so pathetic. his hands were slightly hovering over the door, ready to push it open and walk in.

the request took you by surprise. "i-no."

you missed him. there was no denying that.

you wanted him to tell you it was okay. wanted to go back to that night in his mclaren, the night he told you he liked you. wanted the weekends spent in london with his family. you wanted him, all of him.

his curly hair wrapped around your fingers, blue eyes staring at you, soft lips kissing you. his cold hands grabbing yours, and his voice saying your name. you wanted it to not be casual.

"i just want to talk to you."

he was drunk. there was no other way he would've showed up here, let alone begged to talk to you. the fact that he needed to be drunk to have this conversation made your blood boil.

"do you still have my jacket?"

of course, you still had his stupid jacket. the one that had his smell embedded into the fabric. it was an exclusive print mclaren had given him, and he had swung it around your shoulders after the night you had first made love to each other.

but he didn't care about the jacket, and neither did you. it was just a reminder.

you were silent for a while, taking in the sight of each other. it was his breath mingling with yours.

"i love you." he whispered.

your breath hitched in your throat, the tears finally falling out of your eyes as you sighed.

"i love you," he repeated to himself. "yes, i do. and i've known that since the day i met you."

you choked back sobs as you shook your head, "you're drunk, lando."

"i'm not," he chuckled, "maybe a little, but not enough."

then, he added, "i mean it. i love you." his voice was steady. he truly meant every word. but he didn't know what would happen now.

"what do you want me to say, lando?"

he sighed, "anything."

you laughed bitterly. anything, he said.

anything would've been better than what had happened.

"i don't think i can do this, lando."

"we can take it slow."

"you've never done slow."

he fell silent again because you were right. he'd never done slow. he didn't know how to take things slow. he was a fucking formula 1 driver, after all. slow wasn't something he did. he'd always lived life like it was the last day. and that's how he had lost you.

"i'm sorry," he began, his voice breaking. "i should've been a better person. i'm sorry for everything i did. i should've given you more, i-i should've loved you more, because you deserve so much more. i'm so, so, sorry."

"lando," you whispered, "it's not—"

"don't make excuses for me, please. i love you, i really do. and if i have to spend the rest of my life proving that, i will." and he meant every word. "i just want you back."

your mind was racing, a million thoughts running through it. it was like a movie. his blue eyes, his voice, the desperation in his tone, the way he stood before you.

"okay," you muttered.

"wait, okay? does that mean—"

"you're gonna have to work for this," you said.

"i know, and i will. i promise."

you sighed, rubbing your temple. this wasn't a good idea. "get in."

lando's face lit up, and before you could change your mind, he had walked into the apartment. he hadn't really been here before, considering you moved here after the two of you had stopped talking. but the apartment was lovely, homely. everything you.

you closed the door behind him, watching him look around the living room.

"how'd you know where i live?"

he chuckled, turning to face you. "i'm a famous driver. i have my sources."

"i'm sure." a tense silence followed, neither of you knowing what to say.

"i'm not letting this happen again," he blurted, "i'm not. i don't know how, but i won't."

"i don't believe you." you scoffed.

"fuck, baby, what do i have to do for you to believe me?" he stepped towards you, closing the distance.

"stop calling me that."

"you are my baby." he tried to joke.

"lando, i'm not joking."

"i'm serious too," his voice was sincere, "i love you, and i'll do whatever it takes for you to believe me."

you had been through a lot together. the highs, the lows. you had seen him at his best, and at his worst. the good and the bad.

he moved closer, reaching a hand out to hold yours. you didn't know why, but the moment his hand touched yours, it was like a switch had flipped inside of you.

you let his hand wander over yours like a ghost, his calloused fingertips tracing over your knuckles. he intertwined your fingers together, eyes casted down.

"i've never cared about anyone the way i care about you." he admitted in a soft voice.

and then he pressed his lips to yours. his other hand wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer to him.

and god, did he taste the same. lando had a way with his lips. it was a talent. he kissed you like he needed your lips to survive. he was desperate for your touch as if he had been starving without it.

you were so lost in the feeling that you hadn't realised how far you had pushed him until the back of his knees hit the couch, and he fell on top of it.

his eyes were wide, mouth hanging open. his shirt was halfway unbuttoned, exposing his chest and toned abs.

the two of you stared at each other, eyes searching the other's.

"i love you." he murmured for what seemed like the hundredth time that night.

maybe it was the way his blue eyes bore into yours, or the way his lips quivered, or maybe it was the fact that he had driven across the city to say this.

but for the first time that night, you believed him. and suddenly, the anger was gone. it was all gone.

"i love you, too." you whispered.

it was the only thing the two of you needed. the confirmation, the reassurance. the love.

you leaned down and connected your lips once more, hand reaching up to his curls and tugging lightly. he moaned into the kiss, pulling you on top of him.

your tongue entered his mouth, the taste of him making you lightheaded. his hands roamed over your body, the feeling of his skin against yours.

"baby," he whispered between kisses, "i want you so bad. i've waited so long."

his lips trailed along your jaw and down your neck, sucking marks into the sensitive skin.

"i want you," he murmured against the crook of your neck, "so fucking bad."

but he pulled away, flipping the two of you over so he was on top of you. he took off his shirt, and rested his head on your chest. he cleared his throat, "i should've asked this question earlier, but are you single?"

"yeah." you chuckled, running a hand through his curls.

"so, can i be your boyfriend?"

"lando norris," you hummed, "did you finally get the guts to ask me out?"

"yes," he smiled, lifting his head up to look at you, "yes, i did. will you be my girlfriend?"

"you're a dork."

"that's not an answer."

"yes," you laughed, "yes, i'll be your girlfriend."

lando grinned, and you grinned back.

yeah, it wasn't casual anymore.

(u guys im so sorry if i've tagged someone who doesnt want to be tagged i just had no idea how to let non-followers know part 2 is out bcs tumblr is not letting me reply to comments😭if anyone wants their tag removed, feel free to dm me!! i hope u liked this) @oscarpiassrri @meglouise00 @f1fantasys @technicallypleasanttree @ggaslyp1 @obxstiles @nataliambc @prudyhoo @idkwtdwml123 @ushygushybaby @emilyroxy @yootvi @fishingarden @pillowprincess4him @herexpertcollector

[satorusugurugurl]

My Wedding Date is an Escort!

Summary: When invited to your best friend's wedding, you panic. One of the groomsmen, Toji Fushiguro, is your ex-fiancè. Not wanting to deal with probing questions and the embarrassment of being single, your friend Haibara recommends using an Escort! Taking a leap of faith, you book one, the hottest one. Gojo Satoru is hot, sweet, and funny! The package deal! Men and Women pay thousands to go on a date with him (even more, which he doesn't do often). So when your request comes in, the desperation and pleading tone of your voice. Gojo’s heartthrobs, even more so when you tell him you don't want to have sex.

Pairing: Escort!Gojo x FAB Reader

Word Count: 3,682

Warning: Mentions of depression, anxiety, language

A/N: And so part one is complete!! Please let me know what you think! I plan on posting a new part every Saturday! In the mean time I will work on my brain worm fics/requests!!

Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five Part Six Part Seven Part Eight

Gold calligraphy mocked you as you stared at the wedding invitation on your table. Any normal person would have been elated over their best friend getting married. The dresses, cake, looking at venues! It should have been a happy, wonderful time.

And it would have been amazing if your best friend had met her fiance through anyone other than Toji Zenin. Your ex-fiance, the man who broke your heart, who was also the groomsman at the wedding! The same wedding you were a bridesmaid in.

Life fucking hated you.

Your break up was a year and a half ago. It was tucking painful, watching the life and future you had imagined slip away. You were inconsolable for the first few months, but any other person would feel the same if their fiance broke up with them the way Toji had done to you. Part of you liked to think you were getting better; you knew you weren't healed completely.

The closer the wedding came, the more nervous and sick you got. In a month, you would have to face Toji for the first time in over a year. He was doing much better off than you. He got married! He was now Toji Fushiguro and he and his wife had a son!

Fate was a cruel bitch. He was living his dreams: a house, a pretty wife, a sweet, beautiful son. Toji got everything he wanted while you sunk into the darkness of despair. Toji had ruined you, marked you in ways you weren't sure you'd ever heal from. You never wanted to be hurt like that again. That's why you were single.

Single and traumatized. Perfect intro on your dating profile. So yeah, dating wasn't your thing right now.

Which puts you in a messy fucking predicament. You would be at a wedding with your Ex, who was living the life you had always wanted. Why was he given happily ever after while you were left to pick up the pieces of your broken heart? You could already see the pitiful expressions that your loved ones would be wearing, and that made your skin crawl with anxiety.

You could not show up to the wedding alone.

Which is why you were sitting in your kitchen, drowning in anxiety. You stared at your laptop, bouncing your leg nervously as you scrolled on Escorts4y0u.com. Damn, Yu Haibara, for suggesting this to you. You were shopping for a fuckin’ escort!?

You shot his insane suggestion down as soon as he said it. You had begun ranting about how even more embarrassing it would be if your family found out. First, your fiance leaves you a month before your wedding. Then you go and pay for someone to pretend to be your boyfriend all because you couldn’t bear yourself to start dating again?

Amid your nervous rant, Haibara just put his hand on yours. He assured you that no one would know that they were an escort. If they were good at their job, all your family would see was a happy couple. They would be someone to go to the wedding with, and once you paid them, you would never see them again! No one would be the wiser.

“It's their job to make you feel good and help you have a good time. And you deserve to be happy.” Haibara had said with pity in his eyes. Just thinking about his face, that expression, made you cringe to think of the faces of everyone at the wedding.

“Fuck it.” You cursed, clicking on the escort you liked the most.

Gojo Satoru, twenty-eight years old. His profile listed that he was well-educated and came from a prestigious clan. He was charismatic, confident, and kind. You read dozens of reviews. His previous clients gushed over him. All five stars, every single person he’d helped was grateful for him. Plus, Gojo was very attractive. He had pure white hair, was over six feet tall, and had the most stunning blue eyes you'd ever seen. He was the ideal partner anyone would want to take home to meet the family.

Which would explain why he was the most expensive escort on the website.

“¥120,000 for a day!?” You screeched as you bounced your leg faster, doing the mental math in your head. “That’s ¥900,000.00 for a week.” The mere amount of money you were about to spend almost had you slamming your laptop shut. But Haibara’s face crossed your mind; Toji’s face began to form before you shook your head.

Hiring Gojo was your only option. You had to do this to avoid getting hurt again. Plus, you had to use the deposit from your honeymoon eventually. It would be like burying the past!

“Okay, okay, you got this; just book it Y/N!” Getting up, you jumped up and down to hype yourself up before you hit the green phone icon and dialed the number. The phone rang once and twice.

“This is Gojo!” A gruff but cheery voice answered.

You’re sure your soul left your body as you squealed in shock. He answered!? The man you were going not only to pay but also beg to pretend to be your boyfriend?!

“Hello?” A faint hint of humor and curiosity laced the voice in your ear.

You groaned, rubbing your hand down your face with a whine. “S-Sorry, I was expecting a receptionist for something.” You put the phone on speaker before hitting your head against your table.

“Oh! My bad, sorry!” His chuckle was a deep noise through the receiver. “We put our business numbers on the site. It’s just easier for us to schedule our clients like this.” He hummed. “I assume you’re on the escort website?”

“Yes, I—I was wondering if you might be free next month for a wedding? It’s my best friend.”

“Give me a sec.” Shuffling papers filled your anxiety. “A month from today?”

“Yes.”

Gojo hummed happily, “I am free that whole week! So will it be the wedding and reception?” A pen could be heard writing down notes.

”So it’s uhm, it’s a destination wedding. It’s in Kyoto, and I need you for the whole week. If that’s not an issue or problem.”

”Okay, that shouldn’t be an issue. It’s far enough out that I can block my schedule.” He whistled happily, jotting down more notes. “So the whole week, wedding, reception—“

For some odd reason, it sounded like he was hesitating or weighing his options, questioning if he wanted to even take you on as a client. The growing fear of rejection spreads like wildfire through your stomach. You never used to feel like this; you were so happy and confident before. But after everything Toji did, what he said to you after you had—well, it left some really deep scars that still hadn’t healed. When your mind picked at those still healing wounds, making them bleed, you acted before thinking.

”I have the money!” Gripping the table's edge, you stared at Gojo’s headshot on the website. “Please, I need this!”

“Hey, hey! I’m not worried about the money, sweetheart.” His voice was thick like honey; the pet name sounded so sweet. “I’m just making sure I got everything down.” On the other line, Gojo looked down at his calendar. There was something in your voice, desperation, that was genuine.

He’d had tons of clients, and many of them needed help. But in his two years of working in this field, he had never heard such a raw plea for help. Gojo’s interest peaked. Just who were you? What made you so anxious and desperate for his help?

”Let me confirm the details so I can put you in my books, Ms.?” He waited for your name, hearing you sigh in relief as you calmed yourself down

”Y/N, my name is Y/N Y/L/N.”

”Y/N,” Gojo repeated, “Okay, I have you down for next month, the whole week, for a destination wedding in Kyoto.”

You were sighing happily as you relaxed into your chair. “Thank you. It’s 900,000.00. For the whole week?” Gojo cocked an eyebrow, grinning at your straightforward attitude.

”Depends, will food and hotel be included?”

“Yes, we’ll be staying at my parents' inn; they offered to host my friend's wedding. So food, money, and accommodations will be included. Plus, I’ll take care of your travel expenses.”

Gojo turned in his desk chair, biting his lip as he listened to your stern voice. “Okay, so it’s going to be ¥600,000. A lot of the cost goes to food and hotels. Since you’re taking care of it, you get a lovely discount, sweetheart.” A scoff sounded from his phone, making him smile even wider.

”Great, lucky me.”

Gojo bit his lip, chuckling. “Did you want any other additions?”

“If you’re asking if I want to include your other services, no. I don’t need sex.”

“Don’t need sex?” He perked up as Suguru, his roommate, peeked in, cocking an eyebrow at him. “Seriously?”

You gave the phone a confused look as if you were looking at Gojo yourself. “Yes, I’m dead serious.” The line went utterly silent before rich, stunned laughter filled your kitchen.

”Well shit, that’s a first!”

”Glad I could keep you on your toes, Gojo.”

”Nope.”

You blinked. “No, what?” Gojo snickered as you picked up your phone heading into your room.

”I’m going to be your boyfriend. You have a month, one month, to get used to saying my first name.” The seriousness of his tone made you stop in your tracks. “So it’s Satoru to you, Y/N.”

With a blush dusting your cheeks, you giggled, shaking your head. “Alright, that makes sense. Thank you, Satoru.”

”You’re welcome, Y/N. I’ll see you in a month.”

In one month, you were ¥600,000 poorer, and your nerves were shot as you searched for your fake boyfriend at the train station coffee shop. In the last month, you had spoken to Goj—Satoru twice over the. Once to book his services and yesterday to discuss where you were meeting. His company took care of everything else.

It was still surreal that you hired an escort to be your date, and you were waiting for a stranger at a coffee shop. This wasn't like you; it was so unbelievable. You sipped your coffee, looking around anxiously.

It was like a Greek God walked in. He was tall, like his profile said, over six-three. Dark sunglasses covered his eyes as his white fluffy hair bounced with every step. Straightening, you hesitated before lifting your hand and waving at your fake boyfriend. Seeing your arm raised, Gojo grinned, bounding forward as he pulled his sunglasses off.

“Hi! Are you Y/N?” You stood, swallowing as he still towered over you. God, he was dressed nice, all designer brand clothes. Which wasn't surprising with the amount of money you dropped to spend a week with him.

“Yes, I'm Y/L/N Y/N.” You handed him a cup of coffee that he took before sitting at the table. “Thank you again for doing this.”

Gojo grabbed six sugar packets, ripped them open, and poured all of them into his coffee. “Oh, you're welcome! I love seeing people happy.” Your eyes followed his hands as he poured cream into the coffee. “So, what's our story? That way, we're on the same page.” You couldn't help but smile as he sipped the sugary coffee with a grin.

“You have a sweet tooth?” Gojo hummed, taking another drink. “Maybe I'll make you something at the inn; I'm a pastry chef.” Gojo’s eyes went wide as you ran your fingers over the lid of your cup. “That’s a good story, we met at the bakery I wor—”

“You're a pastry chef?!” Gojo’s eyes sparkled. “Seriously?! What shop?!”

“Uhm, I work at Ichigo Cafe? It's in downtown Tokyo.”

“I love that place! The mochi there is the best!” His words had your cheeks burning your cheeks. “The cakes, the ice cream! Hell, the coffee is good too.”

You twirl your thumbs together. “Thank you, as the head chef, that makes me happy.” Satoru sat back, smiling sweetly. “So I uhm, yeah, that's a good story.”

“Yeah, it does. How long have we been together?”

The two of you settled on five months. That way, it was still pretty new. The whole time, Satoru nodded and added to your cover story. Thank god he was easy to talk to, putting your nerves at ear by the time your coffee was finished. Together, you were optimistic that you and Satoru could get through this week without a hiccup.

You both settled in on the train, getting to know each other more like favorite colors, foods, likes, and dislikes. Satoru didn't drink, had a major sweet tooth, and did his escorting gig full-time. He lived with his roommate and best friend, Geto Suguru, and he had a lot of free time.

You told him everything about yourself: likes, dislikes, favorite color, hell, even your blood type. But as the conversation began to dwindle, Satoru tilted his head. Sure, all that stuff was good now for the coming week, but he wanted to know more. Like why you hired him and why you ‘don’t do sex.’ That question had plagued his mind for the last month.

“Can I ask why you hired me?” His question had your head snapping up. “I mean, don't take this the wrong way, but you've been tense since we got on the train. There's more to this than just wanting a date to a wedding.”

“Uhh, is that obvious? I'm sorry. It's just my ex-fiance is at the wedding party with me.” Satoru paid close attention to how your eyes darkened as you looked out the window. “Our breakup was a shock since it happened a month before our wedding. So, I have all these trust issues, and I don't want to date anyone. Because it's easier not to get hurt if you don't put yourself out there.”

“Why did he break up with you?”

“Why didn't he?” The tone of your voice and words had Satoru peeking up. Not in curiosity but surprisingly in anger. Satoru had seen a lot of women and men in his days as an escort. Many are desperate, lonely, and want to have a good time. But whoever had broken your heart had hurt. You in more ways than one. “There were a lot of things that he uhm—listed off.”

You quickly changed the subject, much too fast for Satoru’s liking. But he wasn’t the type to pry, especially when it came to the feelings and comfort of his clients. So he let you change the subject. And the rest of the train ride to Kyoto, even up to your family's inn, the subject stayed clear of your ex. It was bad enough you’d be seeing him soon; you would much rather not talk about him before you saw his face.

You stood in front of the door to your family's inn. Satoru grabbed your hand, his fingers interlacing with yours as you took a deep breath. “Hey, we got this.” God, you hoped Satoru was right; this had to go perfectly.

Giving his hand a gentle squeeze, you stepped inside. The laughter and distant conversations echoed off the halls as wedding guests conversed and chatted while wandering around. You spotted your mother carrying a tray. She took one glance at you before looking away.

”Oh, Y/N darling, good you’re here. Whenever you get a chance, could you help me make some treats for afternoon tea? Everyone is instant with trying those matcha cookies you made last year.” After years of helping out, in the end, your body began to move on muscle memory, but Satoru stopped you, pulling you into his side with a grin.

“Hey, don’t just up and leave me. At least introduce me to your family first, sweetheart.” The bustling, noisy chatter around you stopped as your family and friends just seemed to notice the giant man standing beside you. His arm wrapped around your waist as he leaned down to kiss your temple. “My poor sweet girl is already in work mode. I thought this was supposed to be a vacation.”

”Right, of course, I’m sorry, Satoru. Everyone, this is my boyfriend, Gojo Satoru.”

”Eh!?”

Those sad, pitful reactions you had been so familiar with over the last year and a half were nowhere to be found on the faces of your loved ones. They were faces of shock, curiosity, and joy. A much better reaction, one that had you letting out a shaky breath you had no idea you were holding in. As you basked in relief, dark eyes watched the two of you, reading you.

The afternoon went off without a hitch. Satoru fit in with any conversation thrown his way. From what he did for a living to how the two of you met, he never stuttered or looked to you for help. He was exactly what you needed. With Gojo by your side, you knew you could get through this wedding without losing yourself in the darkness again.

You owed Haibara big time for this.

After the two of you answered several rounds of twenty questions and an early dinner, you and Satoru stepped into your room. You shut the door, sliding back against it as you shut your eyes. “Oh my gosh, that went much better than anticipated.” Satoru chuckled, setting both of your luggage off in the corner of the room.

“You did great.” His praise had you smiling more. “Seriously, this will be a walk in the park!”

You wanted to agree with him, but your mouth remained shut. That was just your family you met with. Things might be a different story when you face Toji. Because despite you not wanting him to, you knew he could read you like a book. He always could tell when you weren’t feeling the best or something was wrong. But maybe, if you keep playing your card right, you might be able to fool him, too.

”Yeah, a walk in the park.” You looked around the room, relieved to find the futon already laid out for you both. But it was missing the extra pillows you had asked for. The pillows that were going to be used to separate you and Satoru. “Huh, I thought my dad said the pillows would be here when we got to the room. I’ll be right back; the shower is just to the right if you want to wash up first.”

“Awesome, thanks a lot.”

As you reached for the door, the handle turned, startling you. Satoru moved so fast, his arms wrapping around you as the door opened wide. “Have you ever heard of knocking before? My girlfriend and I could have been doing something. If you saw that, I would have had to charge you for the show.” Satoru started as the door opened wide, revealing the person standing in front of it, four pillows in his arms.

”You seriously think I believe that?”

Your body went rigid as you stared into the dark eyes of the man who broke your heart. “T-Toji? What are you doing here?” You learned further back into Satoru’s chest, trying to put distance between the man that had stained your life.

“Bringing you your pillows.” He motioned his chin down at them to emphasize his words. “Look, we need to talk.”

Satoru could feel your breath quicken, your chest moving faster with each inhale you took. From your reaction, he could figure out just who exactly this asshole was. This dark-haired asshole who just barged into your room had to be the ex you didn’t want to talk about in any way, shape, or form. Looking at him, Satoru came to one conclusion without even knowing the guy. He was a fucking prick.

”Look, Toji, I’m exhausted. I don't want to talk right now.” You snatched the pillows away from him. “Satoru and I were going to get ready for bed. I require some TLC tonight.” You went to shut the door, but Toji placed his palm against it, preventing it from moving.

”Please, you and I both know this isn’t your boyfriend. I need to talk to you now. Tell your friend here he can fucking wait until our conversation is over.”

The tone and mere attitude of the prick in the door had Satoru seeing red. He released you, turning you to face him, glaring daggers at the man spewing toxic commands. “I’m not a friend.” Satoru spit out the last word. In a flash, his hand gripped your chin, turning you towards him. His other hand rested on the back of your head, pulling you into a kiss.

It was your first kiss in a year and a half, a kiss that was full of rage and passion like you had never experienced before. Satoru’s kiss was for show, but fuck, it had your knees buckling. You matched his pace, kissing him back urgently. His hands tangled in your hair while you fisted his shirt. You prayed that this mini-makeout session was enough to fool your ex. Satoru pulled away to glare at Toji. His chest rose and fell as he slowly licked his bottom lip with a smirk.

“My girlfriend and I were just getting ready to bed, if you caught the drift. If she wants to talk to you tomorrow, she’ll find you. Later.” Without another word, Satoru slammed the door in Toji’s face before turning to face you.

”Wow.” Was all you could manage to say as you ran your fingers over your lips. Seeing you do that while hearing your breathless voice had Satoru fifty shades of red. In his whole career as an escort, he has never lost his cool like that until he was with you.

Oh, he was fucked.

(TBC)

[dusk-into-dawn]

my hottest arcane take

i think the writers were very purposefully NOT trying to write jayce and viktor as lovers

they explore 3 types of love: familial, romantic, and platonic

it’s important to the story and to real world social critique that two men in media can have deep, profound love for each other that is not romantic. women, of course, can have this too, but we see that portrayed all the time. men are socialized to hide emotions, so when male characters show love for each other, people immediately start shipping them. it’s really important for men to see that platonic love for each other is good. viktor and jayce’s bond feels a lot more flat when it’s written off as a ship.

arcane is clearly not afraid of gay relationships. if they wanted them together, they wouldn’t have to queerbait you over it. they’d just kiss.

ultimately, it’s fiction. do what you want. this is NOT to say gay ships shouldn’t exist, i’ve just observed a lot of erasure of real friendships and bonds due to ship culture.

sincerely, your local aspec friend

[munsonsmixtapes]

Hello!

Can you make a Virgin! Perv! Eddie fic with an assumed innocent! Virgin! Fem! Reader?

Eddie and reader are friends and he flirts with her often, but she’s all blushing and shy, very much a good girl vibe. Maybe he suggests to her to do some “self care” like Simon does with Daphne in Bridgerton…? And he sneaks out to her house and peeps her window to watch her change and stuff but finds her taking his advice and touching herself?? He doesn’t join in but jerks off outside the window to her.

Then maybe a next day scene where Eddie confronts reader and asks if anyone’s ever touched her like that before and offers to do it for her the next time she wants help?? Maybe a giggly dumb smut scene with them in a part two???

Bonus points for a girly girl reader or a chubby reader! 🥰

ugh i love this idea!

cw: masturbation

part two

Eddie knows he shouldn’t peep, but he just can’t help it. He knows he can see a woman undress on TV or even in porn, but seeing you in your pretty, lacy bras, god, that does more for him than anything else. Just one glimpse and he feels himself getting hard. 

And because he’s not a total perv, he quickly hurries to his own trailer before you get fully undressed. Besides, he likes to leave the rest up to the imagination. Imagining you taking off the bra in front of him really does wonders for his late night fantasies. 

He wonders if he’ll ever get the chance to sleep with you but he knows he won’t. Because he’s the weird metalhead who plays Dungeons and Dragons and women typically aren’t into that kind of thing. So, he thinks he’ll just settle for the little waves you give him when you see him around the trailer park and he has to act like he hasn’t seen you in your underwear. 

God, what he would give to squeeze your chubby thighs as he kisses you stupid, to love on your stomach because he sees the way you look at yourself in the mirror sometimes. He would want you to know how hot he thinks you are because fuck are you the hottest woman he’s ever seen. 

He hurries out the door to head to work and of course, you’re there, getting into your car. And he makes a beeline for you, resting his hand on the passenger door so you can’t go anywhere. He wants to look at you a little longer. You’re in one of your cute little dresses that Eddie loves. Bonus points when the wind blows your dress up ever so slightly so he can get a glimpse of your panties. 

“Hey, sweetheart,” he says as he leans in, his face only inches from yours. If he wasn’t so concerned about scaring you off, he’d lean in and kiss you. Your lips just look so inviting with that pretty pink gloss you’ve got on. He wants to kiss you until you’re both breathless then go to work where everyone’s going to ask why he’s wearing lip gloss and he’ll get to tell them that he had the honor of kissing the prettiest girl in Hawkins. 

“Hi, Eddie,” you reply, pulling him out of his daze. “How are you?” 

“Just peachy,” he replies, reaching up and fixing your cardigan that had fallen off your shoulder. It being bare is just a distraction because all he wants to do is leave hickeys across it. God, he got one glimpse of you changing by accident and now he can’t stop peeping on you or thinking about you in filthy ways. “And yourself?” 

Eddie is cute, hot, even. And you don’t know why you can’t get the guts to ask him out. You know he’s just flirting with you because it’s just who he is, but you just want to know if he’d be that nice if he took you out to dinner. 

And you can’t help but wonder what would happen afterwards. If he’d walk you to the door and kiss you there then wait for you to go inside before he went back to his own trailer. 

Your thoughts are so different to Eddie’s. So pure and sweet and that was one thing that he likes about you. That you see the world so much differently than he does and it’s always so refreshing to him. 

You seem tense and Eddie has no idea why. He wants to, though. He wants to know why, hoping that he’s not the cause of it. He would hate to be the one that makes you uncomfortable even though he’s pretty sure that he’s not. So it has to be something else. 

“Something bothering you, sweetheart?” he asks as he pushes some hair out of your face, his hand resting on your neck. 

You don’t want to tell him the truth, that he’s what’s bothering you. You have so many feelings towards him and you’re not sure how to get them out. You’re very close to just kissing him to see if his lips are as soft as you’re hoping. But you don’t. You can’t. You don’t have the confidence to do so and it’s killing you. 

You wish you were more like the girls you worked with. The confident kind who wouldn’t even bat an eye when it came to kissing a cute boy. You’re the kind who just fantasizes about it without ever actually following through with your desires. It’s too risky, especially since he’s your neighbor. If he doesn’t want to then you’re just going to think about the rejection every day for the rest of your life. And if he does kiss you back, then he’ll probably want more and you’ve never gotten to that part so you’d just end up embarrassing yourself. 

“I just-” you pause, feeling the frustration rising in you and Eddie is shocked, but also slightly amused since he’s never seen this side of you. “When’s it gonna be my turn?” You ask, looking him in the eyes. 

“For what?” He asks gently, his thumb rubbing up and down your neck with a featherlight touch. 

“For-for sex,” you blurt and Eddie doesn’t mean to laugh, but he’s just so caught off guard. Not only by your words, but also your outburst. He never expected to see you like this. 

“You do know you don’t need a partner for that sort of thing. When it’s late at night and you’re-”

“Sleeping?” Eddie laughs again. God, you’re so cute. 

“Pleasuring yourself,” he finishes and you still seem to be confused.

“Pleasuring myself?” Of course you’ve heard of it, but it’s never something you’ve done yourself. And it’s not that you haven’t wanted to, but nothing has ever made you feel that way. Nothing has ever made you feel the need to do so. 

“You do masturbate, right?” All you can do is shake your head and Eddie doesn’t judge you. He would never. He doesn’t get it, but he supposes that this could be a teaching moment. 

“You can pleasure yourself, no partner needed,” he repeats. “It especially does the trick when it’s between the legs,” he leans closer, his tongue swiping across his bottom lip before pulling it between his teeth. It’s like he knows what he’s doing to you, but the truth is that Eddie has no idea. He’s too busy thinking about how hot you’d look lying on your bed with your hand in your underwear, your eyes shut tight as you let out the hottest moans, your back arching as you reach your orgasm. 

“And when you find what feels best, you just continue until you orgasm.”

“But how do I get there? What do you do?” He’s surprised you have so little knowledge when it comes to the subject, especially when the internet exists, but again, he’s not going to judge. If he had it his way, he’d make you lie against the hood of your car and talk you through it while your fingers pumped in and out of you. And then as a reward for being such a good teacher, he’d lick your fingers clean then spread your legs wide, fucking you so hard that you’d be forced to call out of work because you couldn’t walk.

“I just imagine someone, maybe a situation that gets me hard and then go to town. I’d love to stay and chat about this sweetheart. Believe me, I really would, but I’ve gotta get to work. Give me a call afterwards and we can chat about it, okay?” 

He presses a kiss to your cheek then heads back to his trailer where his van is parked. You stand there, still in shock from your conversation. You had no idea that it would get to that point but now you have so many questions that you’d really like for him to answer, but they’ll just have to wait until tonight. 

You think about Eddie’s words the entire day. You’re so distracted as you sit at your desk, surprised that you’re able to write out an email to your boss, because all you can think about is Eddie and his words and how badly you want to call him after work and have him talk you through the pleasure he’s talking about. You want to do it, but you want to do it right. And you’re sure that he’d be able to teach you. 

You get home from work after the longest day of your life and as much as you want Eddie’s help, you think your first time should be by yourself. It only seems right. So after you set your purse by your desk before taking off your pants. You sit on the edge of your bed and try to get in the right headspace. 

You lie on your bed with your head on your pillow and spread your legs ever so slightly, closing your eyes as you slowly stick your hand on your underwear, pushing them into your cunt with the lightest touch. You pump in and out as your mind goes to Eddie, imagining him being the one to touch you like this. 

That seems to do the trick because the next thing you know, you’re moaning. You don’t know why you were so nervous. This is easy and definitely the most pleasure you’ve ever felt, especially when you have Eddie’s face in your mind, guiding you through the motions. 

You can imagine how his rings would feel inside you, the cold metal thrusting in and out as he smiles down at you with a devilish grin, telling you just how good of a girl you are. You want him, need him so desperately that you’re moaning his name as you reach your first orgasm. 

Eddie can’t believe what he’s seeing. He had every intention of watching you change, but now he’s stayed for the show. Seeing that you’ve taken his advice has filled him with a pride that he’s never experienced. He’s also super hard. So much so that he needs to take care of himself, and now. And when you moan his name as you climax? Oh, he’s done for and his pants have dropped to the ground before he can even process what he’s doing. 

He pulls down his underwear and takes hold of his cock, giving it a few slow pumps, wishing that you were the one to jack him off. His eyes flutter shut as he throws his head back, his pumps getting harder and faster as he covers his mouth to stifle his moans. You can’t know that he’s out there watching you. That’s just his little secret and he’d be mortified if you ever found out. 

“Eddie,” you moan out again and he thinks he’s going to come right then and there. God, he needs to hear that while he’s above you pumping in and out, in and out as he fucks you hard and deep, wanting you to cry on his cock as he gets all of himself inside you. 

He needs to hear you beg for him, your whiny moans making him even harder as he pounds into you. He needs to fuck you so hard that you’re unable to walk. But this is the closest he’s ever going to get. Because you’re a nice girl and he wouldn’t want to corrupt you like that. He’s always never actually had sex and he’d be embarrassed to admit that to you even though he’s sure that you never have either. 

His pumps get slower as he imagines how gentle you’d be with him. You’d be so gentle with him and he can’t help but let his mind wander to how you’d suck him off. If you’d take him all at once or inch by inch. You’re his good girl so you’d probably go for it all at once because of how badly you’d want to please him. And he’d fuck your mouth in a rapid speed as he hands tug on your hair, his balls slapping about because of how fast he’s going. 

That seems to do the trick because Eddie finishes fast, cum leaking out of his cock and god does he wish you could clean it up for him. He doesn’t bother wiping it off as he pulls up his underwear and jeans before heading inside for a much needed shower where he’s going to think of you some more. 

Once you’ve gotten your fill, you get the best sleep of your life, wondering why you had been so hellbent on finding a partner when you had the capability of pleasuring yourself the whole time. You got exactly what you wanted and didn’t need anyone’s help to do it. Even if you wanted a certain curly haired metalhead to do the honors. Maybe if you’d get the guts to ask him, he would. He’d do anything for you, even though you weren’t aware of it.

[hotvintagepoll]

Propaganda

Ava Gardner (The Killers, The Barefoot Contessa)— She's so goddamn hot. Her and Frank Sinatra could've sandwiched me and I would've thanked them for the privilege

Anna May Wong (The Thief of Bagdad, Shanghai Express)—Wong was the first Chinese American movie star, arguably the first Asian woman to make it big in American films. Though the racism of the time often forced her into stereotypical roles, awarded Asian leading roles to white actors in yellowface, and prohibited on-screen romance between actors of different races, she delivered powerful and memorable performances. When Hollywood bigotry got to be too much, she made movies in Europe. Wong was intellectually curious, a fashion icon, and a strong advocate for authentic Asian representation in cinema. And, notably for the purposes of this tournament, absolutely gorgeous.

This is round 5 of the tournament. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage woman.

[additional propaganda submitted under the cut.]

Ava Gardner:

Ava Gardner is one of my favorite actresses of all time. Although a lot of her roles in movies are about her being beautiful and nothing else, there are some films where her acting truly shines.

Gifset: https://www.tumblr.com/pelopides/721438308726603776/ava-gardner-as-pandora-reynolds-pandora-and-the

Gifset 2: https://www.tumblr.com/portraitoflestatonfire/731899355804598272/if-the-loustat-reunion-doesnt-look-like-this-then

HER FACE. LOOK AT IT. Also was a life long supporter of civil rights and a member of the NAACP, had lots of fun love affairs with other stars, bullfighters, married several times but was also happy in between to just have lovers and was unapologetically herself.

I literally gasp every time I see her.

Between 1942 and 1964, Ava Gardner was credited in no less 50 films, and is still considered by some to be the most beautiful actresses that ever graced the silver screen. Despite life-long insecurities regarding her talent as an actress, she weathered public scandal, industry hostility, and outright condemnation by the Catholic Church with fearless grace. She would later in life talk candidly about the reality and pain of living through two (studio approved!!) abortions during her short marriage to Frank Sinatra, and while the two of them could not make their relationship work, they remained in each other’s lives for nearly 30 years. She would forever describe herself as a small-town girl who just got lucky, but always felt like a beautiful outsider.

Really genuinely one of the most beautiful human beings I have ever seen. An autodidact. Had amazing chemistry with Gregory Peck to the point where I do think about watching On The Beach again sometimes because they're so good together even though that movie did destroy me. Was a great femme fatale in many movies.

Anna May Wong propaganda:

"She so so gorgeous!! Due to Hollywood racism she was pretty limited in the roles she got to play but even despite that she’s so captivating and deserves to be known as a leading lady in her own right!! When she’s on screen in Shanghai Express I can’t look away, which is saying something because Marlene Dietrich is also in that film."

"SHE IS ON THE BACK OF QUARTERS also she was very smart and able to speak multiple languages and is a fashion icon on top of the acting/singing"

"Paved the way for Asian American actresses AND TOTAL HOTTIE!!! She broke boundaries and made it her mission to smash stereotypes of Asian women in western film (at the time, they were either protrayed them as delicate and demure or scheming and evil). In 1951, she made history with her television show The Gallery of Madame Liu-Tsong, the first-ever U.S. television show starring an Asian-American series lead (paraphrased from Wikipedia). Also, never married and rumor has it that she had an affair with Marlene Dietrich. We love a Controversial Queen!"

"She's got that Silent Era smoulder™ that I think transcends the very stereotypical roles in which she was typically cast. Also looks very hot smouldering opposite Marlene Dietrich in "Shanghai Express"; there's kiss energy there."

"Hot as hell and chronically overlooked in her time, she's truly phenomenal and absolutely stunning"

"A story of stardom unavoidably marred by Hollywood racism; Wong's early-career hype was significantly derailed by the higher-up's reluctance to have an Asian lead, and things only got worse when the Hayes code came down and she suddenly *couldn't* be shown kissing a white man--even if that white man was in yellowface. After being shoved into the Dragon Lady role one too many times, she took her career to other continents for many years. Still, she came back to America eventually, being more selective in her roles, speaking out against Asian stereotypes, and in the midst of all of this finding the time to be awarded both the title of "World's Best Dressed Woman" by Mayfair Mannequin Society of New York and an honorary doctorate by Peking University."

"Incredible beauty, incredible actress, incredible story."

"-flapper fashion ICON. look up her fits please <3 -rumors of lesbianism due to her Close Friendships with marlene dietrich & cecil cunningham, among others -leveraged her star power to criticize the racist depictions of Chinese and Asian characters in Hollywood, as well as raise money and popular support for China & Chinese refugees in the 1930s and 40s. -face card REFUSED to decline"

[arcane-hotties]

Hottest Arcane Character, Women's Bracket: Round Two

Mel vs. Vi

Please reblog for sample size. Voters are encouraged to add propaganda, screencaps, gifs, etc. to their reblogs.

[mrchiipchrome]

Te Amo

W.C. - 2.7 k

a/n: alexia is genuinely so grrr I can't even.

------------------------------------------------

A night on the town was all you needed after a long day of flying, packing up your stuff and trying to settle into the city you now had to call home. Moving from North Carolina to Barcelona wasn’t something you were expecting to do, but when the biggest club in the world came calling, you answered.

Seeing as you were one of the best midfield coaches in the world at only 29 years of age, it shouldn’t have been surprising that Barça had come calling, wanting to make their midfield even stronger than it already was.

Paying the taxi man substantially more than you probably should have, you were already a bit buzzed from pregaming, that mixed with your extremely limited knowledge of the Spanish language left you to overpay for the cab and look at the bouncer all confused when he spoke rapidly. 

Finally settling at the bar, you order some drink you’ve never heard of in your life, looking around at the faces of the people closest to you, it doesn’t take long for you to spot the hottest girl you’ve probably ever seen staring at you from across the bar, the woman bringing her hand up to wave at you. Waving back, you get your drink within minutes, leaving you to sip at the strong alcohol and feel the buzz quickly returning to your body, all warm inside from the heat inside the building and from the alcohol coursing through your system.

Looking around the room, you don’t notice the almost familiar woman continuing to study you, looking at your features intensely, the casual smile on your face doing something to her.

The glass in your hand is soon empty and after another one, you’re positively drunk as fuck, so drunk in fact that the hand sticking out for you to take almost goes unnoticed.

The smile on the pretty girl’s face is seductive and you get lost in her gorgeous hazel eyes as soon as you look into them, the flush to her cheeks suggesting she’s as intoxicated as you, if not more. Either way it didn’t matter, looking up at her expectantly as if you’re telling her to actually make a move.

“Vamos.” She nods her head towards the dance floor, ‘what’s the worst that can happen’ you think to yourself as you take her hand and let her pull you along to the dance floor. She was familiar, you just couldn’t place where you’d seen her before, but you knew that you’d seen her before somehow, somewhere.

Her hands land on your waist, pulling your body close to hers, too close for two people who had just met. Spanish women had a lot more confidence than you would have thought, not that you minded for even a second.

The thumping music changes, a sensual song coming on for everyone wanting to grind on someone, the woman’s front pressed tightly to your own as she starts to sway you both around, moving her hips in a way that had you enchanted. Her hands slide up your body, touching every curve and dip hidden beneath the dress shirt, fingers soon finding their way to the back of your neck and the hair at the base of your head.

Now it’s your turn to put your hands on her waist, your bodies moving as one to the song blasting through the speakers, her lips meeting your neck as her head slotted into the space between your neck and shoulder. It’s a bit ticklish but you don’t mind.

Your hands slide a bit lower, landing at the bottom of her back, just above her butt, and she hums loud enough for you to hear over the loud music blasting in the club. Her eyes meet yours just as she pulls her face away from your neck, her plump lips moving to the lyrics of the song and you’re absolutely enticed.

But then, all of a sudden, her lips stray from forming the words of the song, two words escaping that you frankly had no clue about the meaning of.

“Te amo.” Is all you can hear over the music, hands still holding her body close to yours as confusion flashes across your face, once again not knowing a lick of Spanish. As her drunken gaze takes in your expression, she seems to simply think that you couldn’t hear her, not very surprising seeing as you could barely hear your own thoughts. “Te amo.” She repeats, cheering on as the song changes, swaying her hips to the beat leaving you to try to catch up.

Thinking the girl had posed a question, you just respond with the thing you felt was the most appropriate, a simple;

“Nah.” 

Now it’s her turn to look confused, her face inching in closer to yours in order to understand better, at the same time her arms tighten around your neck, trying to keep you close to her. After a second or two she repeats herself for the third time, now just thinking you were a bit stupid or something.

“Baby I can’t understand you, you gon’ have to speak up.” Speaking your native language, the lady in your arms doesn’t seem to understand you, not surprising seeing as you were in Barcelona and not the US. She’s chest to chest with you now, her nimble fingers scratching at your head, her face close enough to your own for you to be able to smell the alcohol and something fruity on her breath.

“Baby, let up a lil’ n’ relax, I ain’t gon’ run away. Like this.” Taking her hands with your own, you slowly pull your bodies apart, pretending you don’t notice the strangled noise escaping her throat. Twirling her around a few times, you can feel the way her body relaxes under your hands, and you pull her body back to yours, dancing in sync with her.

The intense look she was giving you pulled the words you barely even understood from your mouth, your mind completely blank, the only thoughts revolving around the sexiest woman you had ever seen.

“Te amo.” You tell her, southern accent putting a cute twang on the words, a small smile pulling at the corners of her wine red lips leading to a smile of your own being produced, even if you didn’t really know what you had told her. In the back of your intoxicated mind something told you that it means something along the lines of ‘I love you’.

By now, her hands have migrated back to your neck, and in a split second decision you decide to take one of her hands in yours again, leaving her to let her hand slide downwards towards your waist. Fingers leave goosebumps in their wake on skin they don’t touch, a barrier of pent up sexual tension and fabric restrict her fingers from meeting the warm skin under your dress shirt.

Her other hand’s fingers thread with your own, her head now coming down to rest on your collar bones, the soft skin of her cheek meeting the skin of your upper chest area. Electricity courses through your veins at the contact and you almost pass out because of the pure tension between you two.

A second passes and then, out of nowhere, the brunette pulls away from your hold, the space where her hand once was now cold, her hand still in yours.

Dragging you across the dance floor, you allow the beautiful woman to take the lead once more, blindly trusting her as the door to the club comes into your line of vision. By now you’re both running, the door pushed open quickly as feet pound against the ground, and you both laugh, a hearty laugh, a drunken laugh.

No cars drive by, a perfect calm night with all the rowdy teenagers in the clubs with the tired adults looking for a quick hookup, and for once, you feel at peace. The woman holding your hand, not even looking as she crosses the street, is your peace. 

The missing piece in the puzzle that is your life.

The sand beneath your shoes sinks as you try to keep up with the hazel eyed beauty, cool breeze coming from the sea in front of you as she lets go of your hand, pulling her shirt over her head after skidding to a halt, sand flying in all directions.

You watch as more skin gets revealed, unbelievable abs, strong back muscles, muscular thighs and broad shoulders, your gay mind short circuited at the display of the absolute powerhouse of a woman she was.

In your stupor, the only thing you could think of doing was back away, get a reasonable distance before she rid herself of everything. Yet as her warm hand moves to take hold of your own again, everything you’d ever learned disappeared from the confines of your mind, blindly following her every word like she was your messiah.

“Stay, please.” Her accent was a bit wilted and peculiar, but so extremely homely that you barely knew what to do with yourself. “Relax, ey?” She repeats your words from before, nothing but pure confidence in her voice as her fingers start to pull the ends of the shirt out of the top of your pants, feeling her fingertips against the skin of your stomach.

Her hands fiddle with the buttons on your shirt for a few seconds before she decides on just ripping it off, the quicker and much better way to get it off you. Looking on in pure shock, the mystery girl pushes the now destroyed shirt off your strong shoulders with a cheeky smile covering her face, the white material landing in the pile of clothes already forming bedside you both.

Pushing your slacks down your legs, you soon throw them into the clothes pile, barely even noticing the woman moving closer and closer to you until her hands land on your waist, goosebumps now visible to the naked eye. She leans in closer to your face, using her grip on you as leverage to get higher up, her lips less than a centimeter away from your own, moving back ever so slightly as you try to connect your lips.

“Te amo.” Her raspy voice sends shivers down your spine, her lips practically speaking onto yours with how close together they were. “Dilo.” That was something you recognised, one too many summers spent with your aunt in New Orleans to not pick up some french, the Spanish language awfully similar.

“Te amo.” You respond, by now just wanting her full lips against your own, your hands on her cheeks, thumbs stroking against her cheekbones, stomach filling with butterflies full of anticipation. Her giggles fill the air, and as she runs away from you and towards the sea, you can’t help but giggle too, the absolutely absurd situation making you that much more giggly.

It doesn’t take long for your long legs to catch up with her despite her athletic build, her drunk uncoordinated body slowing her down significantly. Almost tackling her to the ground, you pick the girl up and throw her over your shoulder like she weighs nothing, running into the sea as she giggles and tells you to put her down in the limited amount of English she knows. 

“Oh I’ll put ‘cha down alright.” About knee deep in the water you stop, leaning down slightly and almost throwing her into the cold water, diving down just after her so that she couldn’t splash you, feeling the rippling water above your head.

Your head goes up above the surface just after the brunettes, and you’re treated to the sight of her pushing her hair away from her face, biceps flexing in the moonlight. Swimming towards her, she reaches out for you the second you’re close enough for her to touch, her hands not really knowing where to start, flitting all over your body barely taking the time to actually feel your skin under her fingertips.

“A’ight, you gotta keep them hands to yourself there, pretty lady. I bite.” She looks at you all innocently and you’re barely even convinced that she can understand what you’re saying. Laughing at the thought, you soon leave her behind as you start to swim, your hands gliding through the water like that's what they were made for, slowing down ever so slightly to let her play catch up. 

Your feet just barely meet the sandy bottom as she finally catches up to you, her hands threading around your neck, pulling you closer to her like she did in the packed club, only this time she actually kisses you.

Her lips feel like heaven against yours, so divine that you think you’re dreaming, for nothing on earth was so perfect like the girl in your arms was. But as her legs interlock around your waist, you’re sure that your mind couldn’t conjure up something as perfect as her, everything in you screamed yes as her tongue poked at your lips.

Gasping as her thighs squeeze around your hips, the woman practically devouring you takes the chance to slip her tongue into your mouth, exploring the entirety of your mouth with her tongue.

You both moan into the kiss, your hands coming down to rest on the backs of her thighs so that she wouldn’t fall off into the water, not that there would be any risk of that happening, with her legs gripping onto your waist for dear life.

Pulling back, she doesn’t let you go that far before her lips are on yours again, moving in such a way that draws you in even further.

‘Shit, she’s got me hooked’ is the only thing running through your mind when your hands move up her back, undoing the clasp of her bra…

—------------------

Waking up to a raging hangover, half of your new bedroom thrashed and no woman from the night before might be the top 10 most confusing ways to wake up, realizing your alarm has been beeping for the past hour though added a certain little bit of spice to the whole morning.

“Fuck, fuck, shit. I am so late.” Rushing around and putting all your clothes on, you barely notice the dark purple hickies littering your neck, definitely telling a story of how you spent your night.

The last thing you do before you leave your apartment is picking up your satchel with all your so-called ‘homework’, and then absolutely legging it out of the building.

Luckily enough for you, the training grounds were a walking distance away from your apartment building, leaving you to get there in record time.

Panting, you enter the building by flashing your employee ID to the scanner before once again legging it in search of room A221 where the first meeting of the day would be held, the meeting for you to meet all the players you were going to coach.

Bursting into the room, pants almost falling down your legs, some serious bed head, humongous purple splotches on your neck, mismatched socks and a few buttons undone, you officially looked a mess on the one day you weren’t supposed to.

Flattening down your hair subtly, you walk towards the front of the room where the head coach is looking at you funnily.

“I’m so sorry sir, my alarm didn’t go off.” He nods his head, accepting your apology before turning to the women in the room, introducing you to them all as you’re looking for something in your bag.

“Girls, this is your new midfield coach, Y/n Y/l/n.” They all nod a little half approvingly, finding the whole situation funny if anything.

“Hello everyone, I know I look a mess but just disregard that for the time being, I just wanted to say that it’ll be a pleasure working with every single one of y’all-” Finally looking up from your hands, you see the girl from last night staring right back at you, a satisfied smirk on her annoyingly pretty face.

Oh so that’s where you knew her from.

How the fuck were you going to be able to not think about recreating your perfect night together everytime you see her? Fucking up before even starting your new job had to be some sort of record. 

[romanreignseater]

Cinematography. (This Is Cinema ~ Roman’s Part)

Roman Reigns x Black Female Reader

Rating: 18+

Warning: Smut; Rough sex, p0rngraphy, oral (m&f receiving), slight spit kink, and other nausty (ikyk) thingsssss..

“Already having made an absolute masterpiece with Mr. Jey Uso, you didn’t think you’d be stepping to the so called “Tribal Chief” so soon. But he put himself next in line and you weren’t mad at it.

A/N: This has been the most requested in my inbox and I have been dying to continue this story/series for you all. Here’s the first part of this series. Thanks for the support on my last Roman fic, what a warm welcome back 🥰🥰. More coming soon, I got a lot of ideas brewing up. AND MY HUSBAND IS BACK, TURN UP BITCHHHHHH 😝😝!!

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GIF: @jeysuso

It has been about two weeks since your last adult video dropped and it was the talk of the town. Scratch that, it’s talk of the whole world at this point. You filmed with a member of the hottest porn group there is, Mr. Jey Uso, and he most definitely rocked your world. As that video did your bank account.

The video reached 1 million views in just an hour and over the course of two weeks it was at 205 million views. Those numbers meant shopping sprees and palm trees. But, also trips to the masseuse, cause Jey did not play no games with you. He wore you out to the point where your management thought it was best to put you on an “injury reserve” list.

Yeah… it was that bad and honestly unnecessary.

But, good at the same time. Jey made you feel things you haven’t felt in a long time. What you didn’t know was a storm was brewing and headed straight for Casa Y/N.

As you stood in your kitchen making yourself some shrimp alfredo pasta with your teacup poodle, Rex, by your side being your little sous chef. The doorbell rang. Rex instantly began barking and running to the front door, trying his best to be your guard dog.

“Rex, calm your little ass down.” You yelled as turned the stove off and moved the pan of pasta to the side, wiped your hands and headed to the front door. You had no clue as to who was at the door, you weren’t expecting any company. Maybe it was a package, as your online spending habits always seem to leave your mind the second you purchased something. Or maybe fan mail, as you tend to get a lot of those from random men wanting to marry you.

“Rex back up from this door and stop all that barking please.” Rex sat quietly and tilted his head curiously to the side as you opened the huge door. You were surprised to see manager, Vanessa, standing at the door with a big grin on her face. As you opened the door even more, your breath completely stopped and your heart skipped a beat. Stood next to Vanessa was a 6’ 3, tatted, tan, and muscular Samoan with the face of a Greek god.

Your mouth stood agape as you admired his innate beauty, glaring at you with that smirk… that smirk that possessed all the women he’d ever worked with. Made them shrivel in their panties, made them wet for days, and made them absolutely numb to his body and his body only.

Roman Motherfuckin’ Reigns.

The leader of this adult film group aka “The Bloodline”, stood at your front door, with your manager. You couldn’t believe it!! Roman only had 8 videos up… 8 videos!! He’s only ever worked with 5 women in his entire pornstar career and they were quite the professionals. But now he stands at your door, which you could only guess what that means.

“Earth to Y/N, yoohoo. Y/N!!” You snapped back into reality as Vanessa began clapping her hands in your face. “Vanessa, where I’m from clapping your hands in someone’s face means you wanna fight. So, let’s not do that again. Got it?!” Vanessa looked taken aback as Roman just laughed with that dreamy chuckle of his.

“She is really feisty Nessa, just like you said, I like that.. a lot.” Roman whispered that last part into your ear so sensually that it made you want to take your phone and make this tape right here at the front door. But you remained professional as you knew Roman didn’t mess with little fan girls. He only worked with confident women who are professional and know what they want out of him.

And boy oh boy, you knew exactly what you wanted from him.

“Well let’s not waste any time with the long introductions. Y/N, Roman. Roman, Y/N. Shake hands and let’s get this party started.” Vanessa waltzed her way right into your home and picking up Rex in the process as she then said, “Ooo, is that alfredo I smell girl?!” You both watched as Nessa helped herself into the kitchen to feast on the meal you prepared for yourself.

“Your manager is really something, but she’s definitely a smart one and knows what she’s doing with you.” You faced Roman as you just gazed into his chocolate brown eyes as he did to yours. “Yeah that’s my girl. Why don’t you come in and have a seat?!” Roman removes your hand from the door, lets himself in and shut the door behind him. He then immediately picks you up and flings you over his shoulder. You gasped and begin giggling uncontrollably.

He gives a firm smack to your ass and heads his way into the kitchen.

“Oh, imma have fun with you baby.”

You bit your lip as you let Roman navigate his way through your home by following the smell of the pasta which would lead to where Vanessa stood chowing down per usual.

“Okay Groot, put my girl down. She’s on the injury reserve list and I can’t afford to have her down for another week.” You mentally curse out Nessa for mentioning this stupid injury reserve thing in front of Roman. He sets you down and takes a seat on the barstool across from Vanessa on the kitchen island.

“How did you get injured?!” He stares at you with curiosity in his eyes as you weren’t bandaged up, nor needing any sort of crutches or wheelchair. You played with your nails as you looked around the room trying to avoid eye contact with him. “Welllll… it’s kind of a long story. See what-.”

“Oh my god, she’s taking too long. Her last porno with your cousin, Jey. Messed. Her. Up. She’s been done up ever since.” Roman’s eyes moved from Vanessa’s to yours. You shut them not even daring to look back at him.

“Oh please, when I’m done with her she’ll be on that list for months. Why do you think I’ve only worked with 5 women my whole career?! Cause I broke em’ down, claiming they could take it but always proved me wrong. With you though… I know it’ll be different.”

Roman said that as he stood behind you massaging your ass with one hand and massaging your neck with the other. Roman’s massive hand travels from the back of your neck to the front of it as he choked you out. His hand on your lower half took the same route to your front, rubbing your pussy through your shorts. His pillow soft lips laid kisses all over your face, but grazing your lips every time you thought he was gonna go in for a kiss.

You completely crumbled. Cupping your entire clothed mound in his hand, massaging and torturing you. Making you squirm for his viewing pleasure. You lose your breath and awareness of your surroundings as he begins rubbing you out harder and enforcing a rougher choke around your neck.

“Ummmm, get your hands off my girl. You ain’t sign this contract yet.” Vanessa said with a mouthful of pasta, throwing the contract down in front of you both.

“Yeah you’re right. Can’t fuck the shit out of her without this little deal we curated.” Roman released you from the shackles of his hands and you felt like you could finally breathe again.

“Wait, what deal?!” You stared at your manager trying to regain your breath, as she continued to slurp down the pasta.

“Wellll… you see, what had happened wasss.” You looked at Vanessa in utter disbelief as she was out her making “deals” without your approval.

“Ah she’s taking too long.” Roman began to speak on Vanessa’s behalf. “We have curated a little deal princess, where we will have a committed “porn” relationship. Basically committing to film with each other, and each other only for a period of time. But as of right now, we’re doing a little tester. Seeing if we have the chemistry before we go lighting any sparks here.”

You stood giggling not minding the sound of this little “deal”. But you can’t help but notice that Roman’s come flocking after your tape with Jey and you’ve heard about the slight competition between the both of them.

“Okayyyy, and why now?! Is it because I filmed with your little cousin and you’re nervous he’s doing bigger numbers and has bigger things than you honey?!” You continued your uncontrollable giggles as you looked to Vanessa who stopped in her tracks.

Roman shut his eyes and let out a deep sigh. Those words deeply triggered him. Him and Jey were always in competition with one another. Since they were in little league football to now slanging that dick for all of America to see. Despite Jey being a twin, they were more of an inseparable duo rather than frenemies.

Of course Roman had immense amounts of love for his family, he helped bring them into the industry and helped change all of their lives for the better. But he was a firm believer of not letting the people you allowed in to over throw you. He stood at the Head of the Table and he wasn’t gonna allow little cousin Jey to take that from him.

“Vanessa… call the camera crew.”

——————————————————————————

You didn’t even sign the contract and a camera crew was at your home setting up for what you could only assume was gonna be an absolute movie.

Roman didn’t speak to you after asking Nessa to invite the camera crew over. He must’ve not liked to hear you compare him to Jey, but it was all harmless fun… well to you at least.

You find Roman and Nessa in your bedroom with the camera crew setting up angles all around your bed. You slowly walked up from behind your bedroom door and Roman and Nessa looked up towards you. “Well don’t you look all cutesy girl. I haven’t seen you this dressed up since your first ever video..”

You visibly cringed at Nessa constant embarrassment of you as Roman chuckled his life away. “At least she’s all dressed up for a good reason. A great one at that." You dressed in your best lingerie. Red, tight, and riddled with lace.

Just how you liked it and assuming that’s how Roman liked it as well by the way he was eyeing you down.

“How about we get started, why don’t we?!” Roman sat on your Queen sized bed and waited patiently for you sit next to him. You slowly walked to the bed, as if you were unfamiliar with it. “This is your house, your bed sweetheart. Why you being all shy?! I don’t bite, well I might not bite right now.”

You blush and take a seat next to Roman on your bed. You look at Roman as he tells the main camera man where to stand.

“Sooo… there’s no game plan?! Just jumping straight into it?!” Most stars you’ve worked with have a certain setup for how their videos began and Roman seemingly didn’t have one. Most of his films sort of jumped straight into the last minutes of foreplay, then cut right to the sex.

“Sweetheart, this is my show and I’m running it. Just follow my lead and follow like a good girl, alright?!” Roman’s deep voice put you into a trance and hearing him call you a good girl nearly made you drool.

“Oh-okay.”

Roman pats my thigh and smiles at me.

“Good girl.”

He then signals the cameraman, which prompted him to start a countdown.

“In 5…

4…

3…

2…

1…”

He signals his finger towards us meaning that the camera is rolling. Staring directly into the lens, you were completely frozen. Your nerves began to get the best of you and those jitters you had when you first became an adult film star all came back.

You could feel the warmth of Roman peer closer to you. He places one of his large hands on your thigh and the other on your face, making you look him dead in his eyes.

“Don’t be nervous alright. Daddy’s got you.”

Before you could respond, Roman blesses your lips with a passionate kiss. Our lips smacking together in sensual harmony. His tongue swirled on the inside of your mouth, exploring every part of it.

Then the kiss became even slower. Your tongues fighting in a brute of passion, trying to figure out who asserted the most dominance. And of course… the Head of the Table won.

He moves from his spot next to you on the bed and stands in front of at the edge of the bed. He begins to massage your taut breasts through your lingerie, before removing it completely.

“Fuck baby, you look amazing.”

His comment only added to your nervousness, but his heavenly kiss brought you back to down to Earth.

He catches you by surprise as he yanks your hips to the edge of the bed and rips your soaked panties clean off. He spread your legs wide causing the glory of wetness to be revealed to him and the camera.

“You real wet huh mama?! Want Daddy to eat you out??”

You could only nod as his breath nearing your pussy could only cause you to shiver. He smirks and lowers his head down into your heat.

He begins eats you out messily, tossing your knees over his shoulders, and circling your clit until you soak his beard. He then sucked on each individual fold, licking and slurping covering it in saliva. You became a whimpering mess as he shook his head ferociously against your clit, with eyes rolling back, hands tangled in his luxurious hair and legs shaking and closing around his head.

“I’m gonna cum Dadddyyyyy.”

“Let it go mama.”

Your legs enclosed Roman’s head as they shook with maximum strength. Your back arched off the bed and Roman’s fingers gripped your thighs harshly, definitely leaving marks later.

You pant heavily, trying to regain your breath from the insane climax Roman just gave you. Without wasting anytime, he took his tank top off as well as his sweatpants and boxers.

His body a legit masterpiece. Sculpted by the gods.

Shocking you once again, he grasps the back of your knees, forcing them together and then crushing them into your tits. The head of his cock glides against your cunt, still convulsing from the feeling of that climax. 

Roman slams into you, not giving you any time to adjust. He just pounds you into the mattress. The room was filled with sounds, only sounds. The grunts and the wet slaps of his pelvis smacking against yours over and over again with his hand between your legs, rubbing your wet cunt and the place where it stretched around him.

“You like that mama?!”

“You feel it in your stomach, huh?!”

“Daddy’s going in real deep huh?!”

Your entire bed shook, the headboard slammed into the wall to the point where you believed the drywall began to crumble and holes will most definitely appear later on. You begin taking mental notes to tell Vanessa to send Roman a bill for your damaged wall.

His moans made you even wetter than you were before. It almost sounded like he was whimpering over your pussy.

Was the big man really whimpering over how good your pussy is?!

Before you could even relish in the sounds of his moans more, you legs shook once again as you felt your climax approaching and it was approaching fast.

Roman caught on to your short gasps and convulsing legs, he then began beating up your sweet cunt. Throwing your knees to the side of your head, making them touch your silk sheets. Pounding into you harshly, not missing a beat until you squirted all over his lower half and the sheets underneath you.

“Oh my goodness.” You let out an exasperated laugh as you closed your legs together to staph off that feeling. You winced as Roman let out a sharp smack to your ass. You opened your eyes as you watched him pleasure himself in front of you.

“Come suck this dick mama.”

Say no more.

You followed as Roman laid down and you took the position in between his legs, sniper style.

You grabbed at his flesh pole and it felt so hot and heavy in your hands. He most certainly was big. Like BIG. Although you didn’t want to compare lengths, Roman was massive compared to his cousin Jey. Maybe he liked to call him lil cuz for a reason.

“Whatchu you keep staring at?! Get to it princess.”

You innocently brought your mouth down and sucked the head. Moaning with his cock in your mouth and hands massaging at this balls. You slobbered down his length, bobbing your up and down head slowly. You peer your eyes up as you listened to the moaning and groaning Roman made from the moment you made contact with his member. His legs shook as you continued the pleasure.

His eyes rolled back and he grabbed the back of your head, bobbing your head up and down. Your eyes watered and you gagged as he stalled his hips in your mouth.

His cum coated the entirety of your throat. He groaned as you swallowed his cum while he was still in your mouth. His strong arms brought you up as he gave you a long kiss. Intaking all his cum and yours from earlier in each other’s mouths. A string of saliva hung from your lips to his. You both smile at each other, looking each other in the eyes.

“And… CUT!!”

You slightly jumped as you completely forgot about the tape you guys were filming. “That was absolutely perfect guys. Roman, Y/N… you both got a money maker on your hands right here.”

The camera crew began to clean up and take down the lights and mics. Roman tried to help you up off the bed, but you were so weak in the knees you couldn’t stand.

“I think we’ll keep on that list sweetie.”

You rolled your eyes at his comment and he began to chuckle. “Whatever Roman, just let me sit for a little.”

He smiled at you once more before he lowered himself to your ear. “Definitely better than Lil’ Jey huh?!”

This man is a problemmmm…

A good one though.

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THE END.

HOPE YOU ALL ENJOYED 💕💕!! Probably my fave Roman fic to date!!

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